Lesson Learned
by BlackBirdPie
Summary: One-shot, Jace and Clary, and the mess Jace has created this time. Angsty. Fluffy. And a whole lot of Jace being...well, Jace.


**So, this is sometime between COB, and COA, and *SPOILER* before Jace and Clary realized they weren't related. Just a little one-shot I've had on my desktop for a long, long while. Kind of fluffy, very angsty. And, I dare say NOT AU, because, well, we all know how (self)destructive Jace can be...you've been warned.**

**And I don't own none of this, it's all Cassandra Clare's. The lucky lady. **

**Lesson, Learned**

_**- Lesson ****/lesən/ [noun]: An occurrence, example, or punishment that serves or should serve to warn or encourage ****- Learn /****lərn/ [verb]****:**** 1. ****Gain or acquire knowledge of or skill in (something) by study, experience, or being taught 2. Commit to memory 3. Become aware of (something) by information or from observation 4. Teach (someone)**_

She touched the cloth to his face, Jace flinched, sucking up air through his teeth.

"Can't you try and lay off the fighting? This is getting out of hand."

He had come back here, every night this week, looking as if someone had beat the shit out of him; which was probably because they had.

"Just blowing off," She moved the cloth to his eye, which was almost swelling shut, and this time he swore. "Steam."

"Why don't you try running? Or maybe a friendly game of pickup basketball."

"You don't get it." But he looked down, because he knew she got it; that she understood all to well.

"Do you even realize what you're doing to…" She almost said _to me, _but caught myself in time. "To yourself? Coming here like this every night? I know you're picking the fights Jace, but usually you don't lose."

Jace responded with a groan as he eased himself onto the bed, his shirt riding up on the side exposing bruises along his ribs.

This time she tried to hide her flinch.

"How would you like it if I came home looking like this all the time?"

"We both know you're not as stupid as me Clary, I don't think it's a problem. I'm tired, please close the door on your way out." And like that she was dismissed from his room like she was his maid or something.

She was determined, she always had been; whether it was getting the right amount of light in a painting, or not laughing at one of Simon's band names. And she was determined to prove her point about this, meaning Clary would do whatever it took.

A night later when she got back to the Lightwoods', this time is was Jace, waiting for her. Clary was purposefully late, and he was in the family sitting room. She had the brief thought she had only seen him there on one other occasion.

Clary stifled her groan at the pressure opening the doorknob put on her arm.

The bastard had served his purpose; but twisting her arm was just uncalled for.

"Hey." He said, not looking up.

"Hello." She eased down into the chair, smirking at her reflection. There was a bruise already forming around her eye, a cracked lip, and there was another bruise blooming on her cheek. The guy had really done a number on her ribs, so she was sure there would be marks there as well.

She had left under the pretense of going to see a new Brooklyn band with Simon.

"How was—" Jace finally looked up. "What the fuck happened to you?" If this was how he was treating her, she would hate to see him around who has responsible for this.

"Oh, you know." She shrugged, regretting it rather quickly.

"Is this supposed to be funny?" His voice was low, and it should have probably scared her, but she was only annoyed with his double standards.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, oh, I don't know Clary, maybe the fact you looking like a fucking piece of meat?"

"Right, sorry, I guess I was just blowing off steam."

His face turned from red to pale; a deathly pale.

"So, what, you're trying to teach me a lesson?"

"If that's what you want to call it, sure."

He swore loudly, looking exasperated. "We're different Clary, you're not the type to get into fights, to go act like an asshole-"

"Oh my god! Stop with the, _I'm Jace, and I get to punch people when I'm upset._ You're not a primate, you can use your words! I'm just trying to show you, that it's a little different being the one who has to watch someone hurt themself. Repeatedly."

"I'm going to get Alec, he draw you a symbol or something."

"Why, you don't get yours healed. Why do you all of the sudden care?"

And then he smiled. "Because you're my little sister. It's my job as your brother to care."

_Ouch. _"I'll go find Alec myself.

And she turned out of the room quickly, but not quick enough that Jace didn't see her swipe at her eye, the tear slipping out of them.

He felt that familiar pang in his stomach, the one he had learned to associate with all things Clary.

He started pacing the room, and vaguely realized he was muttering aloud to himself.

"No reason to feel guilty. She's acting stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. Normal brotherly feelings, every brother worries about his sister." He turned and faced out the window, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "She had no reason to cry." His voice wavering between upset and irritated. "No fucking reason. She's overreacting.

"It's none of her business what I do anyway_._"_ Then why do you care what she does?_ A little voice asked him. One that sounded obnoxiously similar to Alec.

"Shut up." _It's pathetic you care this much._

And okay, Jace may have reached a low point in his life. But he was drawing a line with arguing with himself.

But, fuck, if Clary didn't always get to him like this. Always.

She was the one who wanted space between them, since they were siblings.

So she had no right to get upset for Jace upholding that space, and she had no right to overreact, and go get the shit pounded up of here.

"WWABD, dude. WWABD?" He thought to himself. _What Would a Brother Do?_

Fine. He'd find her, he'd apologize. Simple as that. And then he would go find out who did this…

He knocked on the door to the guestroom Clary usually used.

"Come in."

She was laying down on the bed, her bruises looking faint, even against her pale skin.

"Hey, thanks again Alec, for…oh."

"I just wanted to…apologize."

"For?" She sounded so tired. All he wanted to do was go over to her, and take her in his arms and…no Jace. He scolded himself, definitely not WWABD.

"Um."

"The only thing you should be sorry for, is what you do to yourself. The fighting. I mean, seriously Jace, you don't hide your self destruction very well."

"Yeah, well don't you think that's a tad hypocritical sis, considering." He gestured to her bandages.

"I was only trying to show you. Because you weren't listening to me. It's hard to see someone you love hurt themself." She said the last part quietly.

"Jesus Christ Clary!" He exploded. "What do you want from me? Do you want a brother? A friend? A…just what?"

"I don't know." And her face looked so lost. "I don't know Jace, I just know how I feel…and I don't even know that much, but I don't want it to hurt so much. To see you, to have to try to control the way I feel. I don't want it to feel like…this."

And he knew what she meant. Because even after getting the shit beat out of him, that pain still didn't bury this one. It didn't even cover it.

He moved over by the window looking outside, wondering if there was anyone out there, who was remotely as unhappy as he was. Or if the only other person was in this room.

Jace heard Clary stand up, and move over towards him. He felt her place a tentative, trembling hand on his shoulder.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked, not recognizing the tremor in his own voice.

"Can we just…let's just stand here. Just for a bit. And we won't be Jace and Clary, or…" She swallowed. "Or brother and sister. We can just…be."

He stepped to the side, and she moved in the space next to him. Jace wrapped his arm around her shoulder, controlling the shaking. Because it had never hurt, not being closer to someone, it had never hurt more in his whole damn life.

"So, no more fighting? Lesson learned?"

He almost laughed. "Sure."


End file.
